Why So Serious?
by Rinn Is Sick
Summary: Nora Mikk is an exorcist. And she knows it. But she isn't in the Black Order. Yet. This Story Is Super Long, So I'm Separating It Into Like 50 Chapters
1. Chapter 1

**Why so serious?**

** Pain is not real. Sadness and happiness and love, are each an illusion, an imaginary way to convince ourselves that we feel something. It is a lie. **

** And since this is so, why do our minds create such a mirage? Why do we hope? Because without it we would be consumed, erased by the darkness we all host deep in our souls. The madness is overwhelming, and soon each person is sucked in. **

** In a tragic moment, we are at our most vulnerable, and an unknown evil abuses our misfortune. While guided by he, we can, and will, be absorbed. But I am strong. My soul is hard. I am unbreakable.**

** And I am protected by my innocence.**

Tick, tock, goes the clock...And we all die tomorrow!

Did I know at the time it would it would be true? Yes, of course I did. Because I saw it. I saw the pain and suffering of the future. It was I, of all people, who recognized the signs. Because I was cleverest.

And today I laugh, because I was too clever.

I saw deadly eyes in the trees, far away. I tasted blood contaminating the thin air. I smelled smoke from cigars much too cheap. I heard the breaths of an unfamiliar man. And I glimpsed at the flames that would destroy us. And I can feel these things, because I was born this way.

I was born an exorcist.

What is an exorcist, you ask? We are apostles of God. We exist to demolish the unknown evil, using the God Crystal, also known as innocence. Some bond to their innocence, and some, like I, are born with it implanted inside our bodies. We are protectors of the Earth, fighting against the Millennium Earl, with weapons forged of our innocence.

Who is the Millennium Earl, you ask? The unknown evil. The one who appears when you are distressed, who soothes you with speak of the impossible, and tricks you into opening your heart. He extracts the darkness within you and encases you in it, until nothing is left but the shell of a human. And a demon, made of the one you love, wears your skin.

Exorcists are here to relieve these suffering spirits of the weight they bear.

And now you ask, why? And I laugh, because you are just another fool.

I stare vacantly at the red fingers flicking upwards, slowly annihilating what had once been my home. The mansion that had been my prison, butchered by a simple flame.

But you cannot say I was surprised.

I gape at the toppled bodies that once were my parents, clinging to each other like the wings on a fallen butterfly. Though even as tears streak my elder brother's face, I do not cry. I plainly turn around and walk morbidly on my way.

"Nora?"

"Come on, Tyki."

"Where…" He began.

"_They're_ going to come."

"Huh? Who?"

"Those _people._ They're gonna take us away. They're going to put us somewhere where we don't want to be. I'm leaving now. I'm deciding my own fate."

He stands there in cold silence, the brisk winds blowing his silky black hair in front of his face, hiding his red, puffy eyes. Listening to this conversation you might never have believed that I was only five, and he was sixteen. "You never did like to be told what to do."

When you live in a world ruled by those who don't understand, in a house with parents that forget you exist, there is no hope. No hope when there is no one to care for you, but Tyki and I had each other. We stuck together. We understood each other.

This is when a black Panhard-Levasso* pulls up. This is when we run.

We are quite a sight, two spoiled, rich children running down the road like urchins. Well-dressed urchins. I am quickly tired, but Tyki is strong. He lifts me onto his back and continues to run.

Gasping over heavy breaths, he whispers, "We're gonna stick together, okay?"

"Okay," I respond.

"I'm not gonna leave you alone."

"I got it."

At the time I believed him to be true. He was my older brother. My stronger, smarter, braver, older brother. And I respected him, and he protected me, and we were together forever.

* * *

* An electric vehicle (car) from France in the early 1800s


	2. Chapter 2

It is now a year later, and a boy and girl sit on the frozen earth, staring at two carefully carved gravestones. Their clothes are torn and caked with dirt, and their numb fingers streaked with blood from hard work in the cold.

On an average day, he would go out to his job on a dirty railroad, that pays just enough money to purchase a loaf of stale bread. She would sit somewhere quiet and isolated, and with a deck of cards, by herself. When he would return at night, she would ask him to play too. He would loose and always ask 'where did you learn to play like that?' She would just smile.

Because when you have as much time to yourself as she did, learning a slur of cheats was not a task. She picked them up quite easily, and eventually became a master.

At night they'd seek out a bench, or a scrape of cardboard to act as a mattress. When it was cold, he would hold her in his arms, and whisper stories in her ear until she would fall asleep.

But today was not an average day, and they were not on the streets of Paris, as they would be if everything was normal. They huddled together in a dark cemetery, on a starry night, and did not exchange a word. It had been one year. A year since their lives had been turned upside down, and their misfortune had begun.

I turn my pale face toward the moon, and wonder why it looks like it is laughing tonight. And it puts me in a trance, one that I would probably remain in, if not for the lighthearted 'Hello!' that comes from behind.

I flip around.

"Why, hello children!"

Tyki says nothing, but slips his hand onto my shoulder. Each step the large man takes toward us, the grip on me tightens. I can feel my brother tensing.

"Hello." I respond, also quite suspicious of this character.

"Where are mommy and daddy?"

"It's rude to speak before introducing yourself."

"They aren't with you." He pursues the conversation he so obviously desires.

"My name is Nora Mikk."

"I bet you would do anything to get them back, wouldn't you?"

I taste malice as the words rolls off his tongue.

"What's your name?"

I'm not going to speak with him until he tells me whom he is.

And I see the reluctance to reveal his identity on the cold expression he wears. But his lust for suffering outweighs his suppression. "I am the Millennium Earl."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Earl." Tyki's nails now dig deep into my skin.

"I find it _very_ nice to meet you as well, Nora…"

And suddenly, we aren't in the graveyard anymore. We are in a building, or we are outside. I can't even tell. The sky is red like blood, with a pale white moon, that gives off no glow. The ground is gone, and we now sit on a black and white checked floor.

And in front of us are two silver skeletons.

"Just call out their names, and I can bring them back from your detestable God."

And this is when Tyki finally releases his grip. And he whispers, "All I have to do is say their names?"

"From the bottom of your heart."

Tyki opens his mouth wide…

And if I had let him mutter the words, their names would be etched into the skulls of each skeleton.

If I had let him mutter the words, our parents' spirits would be called down and attached to the skeletons.

If I had let him mutter the words, they would have been forced to attack us. Conscious as to what they were doing, and yet unable to cease.

If I had let him mutter the words, we would be killed, and our skins worn by the akuma*.

If I had let him mutter the words, they would each go out and massacre entire villages.

If I had let him mutter the words, things now would much, much different.

But instead, I lifted a stone. And I beat the stone down with all of my might onto my brother's head. And I have a lot of might.

* * *

* Demon created by the Millennium Earl to murder humans and hunt down innocence


	3. Chapter 3

Tyki is now slumped over, face planted onto the ground. I still have my hand wrapped around the blood stained rock, but as soon as I realize what I have done I drop it. It crashes to the floor with a piercing crack.

I open my ears wide, and sigh in relief as I hear the rushing blood pulsing through his veins.

The Earl stands in awe, and for the first time I see amber eyes flash from beneath his glasses.

"So what do you say, Nora?"

"What do we have to do?"

"Just say their names, that's all, Nora."

"No, I mean, what do we have to _pay you_?"

"I don't understand, Nora."

"I know you aren't telling us everything, because nothing is for free. Unless you are just a dream, in which case none of this is happening. Either you aren't real, or there is a price to be paid."

"You don't trust me, Nora?" he hissed.

"Only a fool would trust you."

He lowered his face down to mine, "You're no fool are you, Nora. You're right, you know. But deep down you don't care, you want something to happen, you want to pay that price, Nora." His voice changed. It released its playful yap, and was in turn replaced with a sinister tone.

"Not at all."

"You're lying, Nora."

"_I_ could care less."

And I jump to my feet. And I point my finger at him. A smoky trail is released, one that the naked eye cannot see. And it wraps itself around his neck, and like a Boa Constrictor, it begins to squeeze.

He pulls his hands toward himself in attempt to wrestle the force from him, but his struggle is useless against the invisible poison.

Because I am doing it with my mind.

Just like I can see a thousand miles away. Like I can here a heartbeat from across a room. Like I can taste food without bringing it to my mouth. Like I can smell a Camellia Blossom*. Like I can feel dust brush my flesh. Like I can see devastation that is to come.

The Earl's creepy smile is now vanquished. He brings a pink umbrella with a pumpkin top above his head, and flies off into the red sky.

The fat man's silhouette against the dull moon.

* * *

* A flower without fragrance. Sometimes known as Tsubaki.


	4. Chapter 4

It is mid afternoon. My hair is matted against my face from the pouring rain. I skip though the puddles, soaking my leather boots and striped stockings.

As I run, I intentionally knock into strangers, and in the spit seconds our bodies' touch, I slip my fingers into their pockets and whip out their wallets.

This routine is a part of my every day, and a secret that I keep from disapproving Tyki.

I am ten now, and he is twenty-one. I am through with waiting alone all day, as I have been for a while now. And I find that I like being around people, because it is so much more thrilling to be the fox in the hen house, rather then being the blue bird in a tree.

I spot a group of men, playing poker in the nearby pub. They play the unfortunate part of being my next targets.

I stride inside, and a bell jingles as I enter. Everyone there immediately turns to me, but I don't mind. If you act confident and look like you belong, you can get in anywhere. I walk over to the card game.

"Hello, sirs."

They look at me suspiciously; I suppose they have been warned. To my irritation, I have become somewhat famous for my skills. But the longer I spend time around people, the more I realize how easily deceived they are, even if they are aware that the decisions they are making are completely idiotic.

"Can I please play?"

"Sorry, Miss."

"But sir, it's raining, and I'm bored. My brother told me to meet him here, but he's running late. It will just be for a little while."

I pretend to tear up like any normal little girl might.

I must have stripped those men of every cent they carried.

I make a good amount of money off them and don't have a clue as to where I should spend it. But I have to rid my pockets of each dime before meeting up with Tyki.

And under the light of the moon, I hear a tune, I have always admired street musicians, I envy the way money is dropped into their jars as people pass. And so an idea forms in my mind, and I sprint toward the singing man.

"Sir!" I holler, the man singing stops and looks up at me, "I'll give you 140 francs* for your guitar."

* * *

* French currency in the 1800s


	5. Chapter 5

Now I'm in the alley beside the Chapeau shop, where I am really supposed to meet Tyki.

I am running late. He is there waiting for me, and I know he doesn't like to wait.

I have a newspaper from this morning for him, I hold it out. He yanks it out of my hand and flips it open.

"Where did you get the guitar?" Tyki asks, without taking his eyes off the paper.

"I found it."

"I don't believe that."

"Someone gave it to me."

"Not likely."

I throw the truth in, knowing he would never believe me.

"I bought it."

"You don't have any money."

I sit down and start to play a melody the man taught me. He doesn't even flinch.

"I love you, Tyki."

He only nods.


	6. Chapter 6

It's the next morning.

And immediately I notice things are wrong.

Because Tyki is still asleep.

He always gets up before me.

I shake him.

He doesn't wake.

I step on him.

Same results.

I slap him on the cheek.

His eyelids flutter, but he does not rise.

I can hear his heartbeat.

It is different.

I am scared.

He is pale.

I am pale.


	7. Chapter 7

"Tyki…Tyki. Tyki? Tyki!"

I am sitting on him. My knees are on his chest.

He is breathing, but not moving.

And he is still, until he starts to scream.

And he screams. And he screams. And he screams. And he screams. And he screams, and he screams, and he screams, and he screams, and he screams and he screams. Screams, screams, screams, screams.

And I cry.

And he screams.

And this goes on.

And then he stops. And I still cry. Because his forehead is bleeding. Seven bloody crosses, in a line across his forehead.

I run down the streets yelling, "Doctor! Someone help! Anyone know where I can find a doctor?"

But no one listens. People recognize me here, and they each assume it is just another trick.

But it's not.

Because my brother is hurt, and I need help. And now salty tears are streaming down my cheeks, because I realize, that if he dies, then I will be all alone.

No one else trusts me, and no one else cares for me, because I am a thief and a liar. Because I am a cheat. Because I am dirty, and hungry, and homeless, and hopeless. Because I am different.

So I sit myself down and cry.


	8. Chapter 8

Seven days.

Each day, Tyki becomes paler.

His eyes are now open, but his irises have completely disappeared.

On the seventh day, I wake up to find his face completely gray. His eyes are amber.

He is awake.

And he is speaking with the Millennium Earl.

And the Earl is not alone, next to him, is a little girl. She looks about my age, and in fact…

She looks just like me.

Her skin is gray like the Earl, and now Tyki. She has amber eyes. She has seven crosses on her head.

"Tyki!"

All three of them turn my way.

I lift my hand, but Tyki wraps his fingers around my wrist.

"My, Nora, how you have grown so!" hisses the Earl.

I tug my arm away from my brother. I slip my hands into my pockets and bite my lower lip.

"What. Are. You. Doing . Here. Earl." I mumbled angrily.

"I think we should leave these two alone. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Millennium?" The girl smiles as she speaks. Her voice is squeaky, and yet menacing.

And the two of them parade off, dissolving into the air.

"Tyki?"

"Nora."

"Why?"

"I know."

"Tyki?"

"I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I'm a Noah."

"Who?"

"An apostle hand picked by God."

"No."

"Yes."

"An exorcist…"

"I thought so too."

"Them?"

"Yes."

"No."

And we are silent.

"No!" I scream, tears coming again, "An exorcist is an apostle of God! I am, not you! The Noah are our enemies."

"Not true"

"So you're just leaving?"

"I have to."

"No!"

He turns and goes.

I call after him, "And whatever happened to, 'We'll stick together' and, 'I won't ever leave you alone'! And that things might be rough, and we might feel sad, but it would be all okay because we'd always have each other!"

And I know I catch his attention, because his motions become gradual, and his steps slow.

"Goodbye, sister."

"How am I supposed to live without you?"

"You'll be fine. You are stronger then me, don't ever forget it."

He dissolves.

And I shriek until my throat is raw, and my lungs struggle to catch air.

And then I keep shrieking.

Because I am alone.


	9. Chapter 9

_In this world that is so merciless_

_We are the ones God does not bless_

_Now our hearts begin to grow old_

_Because each is left without hope, and forced to fold_

_And I beg of you_

_Please give me something to hold on to_

_So I won't break_

_Dispose of this horrible ache_

_And blood drips in place of tears_

_No one can help us escape our fears_

_Because everything that's right is wrong_

_And everything that's left we wish was gone_

_Is there anybody out there_

_This life is only one nightmare_

_When your reflection makes you want to die_

_And all that's left is the word goodbye_

_The crooked moon shines down_

_And illuminates this ghost town_

_Because on your own it's hard to rest_

_And living is just one big waste of death_

Five years have passed since my brother abandoned me.

I strum swiftly on my guitar, watching as the people pass. They occasionally glance my way with disapproving stares, but it's a rarity for anyone to stop and listen.

And that's why I am in shock when a white haired boy, with a scar across his left eye, slows as he walks by. I pretend not to notice him standing there as I sing.

He sways slightly to the tune as I roar my lyrics. And it makes me feel okay for once.

And so when he leaves my heart begins to ache once more.

I hide my instrument behind one of the shops before heading over to one of the nearby bars. I have become extremely well known in Paris, mainly for being the cause of, or somewhat entangled in, 10% of crime in the city. People refer to me as the _Fleur Enfer.*_

I don't look like a Fleur Enfer. I am a pretty girl dressed in striped tights under short shorts. With a black top, and a woven black cap, hiding my short blond hair. But I guess that's what the _Fleur_ part is referring to.

I spot a peculiar, well-dressed man carrying a black suitcase.

He looks wealthy and confident, the perfect combination of an ignorant human to act as my prey. I get moving, unobtrusively strolling his way. I'm almost to him when a small dog waddles along between us.

I use the dog as an easy excuse to trip and fall into him, but as I reach for his wallet, his gloved hand intercepts my arm.

"So you thought you could pick pocket me, eh?"

From my perspective there is only one option.

I knee the man in the stomach and run. I don't look back to see whether he's chasing me or not. But it doesn't matter even if he is. Because I know this city like the back of my hand and can escape anyone.

I climb up an uneven wall to the top of a building and proceed to jump across the rooftops.

It is now night and my dark clothes blend in well with the black backdrop. The only ones who realize my presence are the people inside the dwellings, who can clearly hear the loud clunks of my boots above them.

The moon shines brilliantly tonight, and the stars look like soft light glimmering off diamonds

I am so engrossed in the night that I almost topple off the side of the building. And in my distress I think I see a white head of hair in the alley bellow. I peer down, and my suspicions are proved correct, because it is the boy from earlier.

And I form and idea in my mind. And if you know me, you will know that that never means anything good.

So I hop down from my perch, and directly in front of the kid. I wasn't anticipating landing where he could see me, but I make do. I punch him in the gut, then flick open my switchblade knife and press it against his neck.

"I'm gonna give you two options, kid. I can either kill you now, and take all your money, and leave you here for some poor fellow to find you in the morning. Or you can come with me, and we can play a game."

"Um…" the boy swallows, he's not quite as frightened as I would expect him to be, but he's scared enough, "Not killing me would be fine, thank you."

"Oh my God, this is gonna be so fun!" I grab his wrist and pull him along as I run.

We stop behind a café, a spot a choose specifically for its isolated location. "So what's your name?"

"Allen Walker." He gulps.

"I'm Nora Mikk!"

He doesn't respond.

"Relax, Allen, I wasn't ever really gonna hurt you, I just wanted to play a game."

"So you mugged me?!"

"I just wanted to get your attention!"

"That's an odd way to get someone to notice you."

"…It is?"

He puts his palm to his face and sighs. "You're insane. How old are you anyway?"

"You're asking me! I can't tell if you're eight or eighty!" I am referring to his white hair.

"I'm twelve!"

"I'm fifteen!"

And now there is a gap in our conversation.

"So what game do you want to play?" He asks.

"Cards! We're gonna play poker."

"I don't really know how."

"Its okay, I'll teach you!"

And so I explain all the rules.

We talk. I learn that he is apprenticed to a man named Cross, and that his master has an inability to manage his money. Apparently, the boy works all day every day just to pay off the man's debts, and only brings a small amount of the cash he earns.

And I do the kid a favor. This "favor doing" is new to me, since I don't really mingle with others often, besides street thugs anyway, and I find it slightly rewarding. I teach the kid all my tricks and cheats, and I actually enjoy myself for once.

And I have the time of my life playing with Allen, because only then to I realize he is as close to a friend as I have ever had.

And the heart ache returns when the sun rises, when the boy leaves once more.

* * *

* Hell flower


End file.
